This Precious Thing
by Jemmiah
Summary: QuiGon's past begins to catch up with him.
1. Default Chapter

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This Precious Thing: Part One

By Jemmiah

*******

"It's not fair!"

"Jemmiah, don't stamp your foot like that at me. You're not a Bantha! And don't look at me like that either because I won't tolerate it."

"You ALWAYS take Obi-Wan's side in everything! You never listen to me!"

"Did you or did you not kick my padawan in the shin?"

"Yes! So what if I did? He's got another perfectly good leg to stand on, hasn't he?"

"That's hardly the point as well you know."

"The galaxy is not going to end coz Ben's got a tiny bruise."

Maybe it was because of the way that she was fixing him with that insufferable, infuriating scowl - the open defiance - that Qui-Gon hadn't listened to Jemmiah's side of the story up to that point, he couldn't say for certain. It did bother him that she truthfully considered him to be biased in favor of his apprentice, but he had seen the facts with his own eyes. The boy had a rapidly darkening bruise on his shin, a kick that had been delivered by a forceful and angry blow. Jemmiah couldn't deny kicking him as he'd come in and witnessed the very moment of the attack, but what Qui-Gon needed to know was what Obi-Wan had done to merit such a viscous assault. His padawan had not been forthcoming which had more or less confirmed Jemmiah's tale that there was more to the sorry story than first met the eye...

"You and Obi-Wan usually get on so well." Qui-Gon pointed out, crossing his own arms and mirroring her sullen posture. "That's what I find so surprising."

"It was his fault!"

"He maintains that you were both talking normally about nothing in particular and then you lashed out at him." Qui-Gon stared right back at her, watching her face for any sign of discomfort or falsehood. To her credit he saw none, only a determination conveyed admirably by the set of her jaw.

"Then his point of view is different to mine!" Jemmy snapped again, knowing she wasn't impressing Qui-Gon by her antics but not caring a jot. "I knew you wouldn't listen!"

She spun on her heel and stormed towards the door and the safety of her own bedroom.

"Who gave you permission to go?" Qui-Gon challenged, annoyed in the extreme.

"What's the point in talking? I'm gonna get sent to my room anyway!" Jemmy yelled back at him. "And before you say it, I don't want supper!"

And with that the door slammed shut behind her.

*******

True to form Jemmiah did not appear for supper and although Obi-Wan seemed slightly contrite for his as yet unspecified part in that afternoon's proceedings, it certainly did not stop him from eating the extra helping of food that Qui-Gon had prepared, just incase the Corellian girl decided to back down. He should have known of course that even if she had been ravenous, pride would have forced her to stay away. Pride played a big part in Jemmiah's personality, Qui-Gon had come to realize. It was what kept her going on bad days. It told her that she was the equal of everyone and the inferior of nobody. Sometimes she seemed to have difficulty believing it but obstinacy often saved the day. The sheer forcefulness and energy of her persona could sometimes bowl a person over.

As Obi-Wan tucked into the last of the salad, his master had reluctantly beaten a path to Jemmiah's door and knocked smartly upon the wood, awaiting some kind of acknowledgement.

"I've managed to save you some salad…that's if Obi-Wan hasn't finished it whilst my back was turned." Qui-Gon added under his breath. When he received no answer the master continued:

"May I come in for a moment? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"If you have to." The sullen voice replied, partly muffled by what sounded like a pillow.

//Progress at last.// Qui-Gon caught himself smiling. //Normally she would leave me standing outside the door. Well, when it comes to a matter of attrition she picked on the wrong jedi master. I can wait a millennia if I have to.//

He opened the door with the gentlest of touches, eyes instantly drawn to the bed where lay sprawled the recalcitrant ten year old, hugging what turned out to be not a pillow but that awful toy Gundark with the missing eye. Inwardly shuddering, he squeezed his tall frame through the narrow gap and casually inspected the room, hoping to find an opening to their a conversation.

"For someone who has amassed a considerable amount of possessions you manage to keep this place rather tidy." He observed approvingly. "I have the feeling that Obi-Wan's room is perhaps not as clean as it should be."

At the mention of the padawan's name Jemmiah scowled.

"Are you not hungry?" Qui-Gon inquired.

"No." Jemmy lied. "I've lost my appetite."

"That sounds like a job for the healers. Or maybe," Jinn watched her eyes grow alarmingly big at his suggestion, "you can just tell me what it is that's got you so upset this time?"

"What's the point?" shrugged Jemmy. "It's not like you listen to me."

"I'm listening now."

"You always believe him! I'm not perfect but I don't fib all the time! It's like everyone's waiting for me to be bad, and when I'm not they blame me anyway! I almost believe it." Jemmy turned a miserable and hurt expression on him, hoping that he would fall for the usual routine of manipulation and theatrics. She could see that whilst it unnerved him slightly, on this occasion it wasn't going to get her anywhere.

Not that what she had said wasn't true, because it was.

"I still would like you to apologize to Obi-Wan for that kick. Whatever he did, I will not tolerate that sort of behavior."

"I already did." Jemmy moped, hugging the toy closer to her.

"Pardon?"

"I did say sorry. Right before I kicked him. I'm sorry for it now coz I've bruised my toe on his leg!"

"Obi-Wan omitted to tell me you had apologized." Qui-Gon made a mental note to remind his padawan not to leave parts of his story out when giving his version of the truth.

"Figures." Jemmy snorted, chewing at Shorni's floppy ear.

"Look," Qui-Gon ventured after a moment, "About what you were saying…nobody is waiting on you to be bad. Nobody is perfect."

"I'm just less perfect than Obi-Wan." Jemmy balled her fists, grabbing handfuls of Shorni's synthetic hair. "You both make me feel so stupid sometimes. It's like I do everything wrong and I embarrass you all!"

"Now that isn't true."

"I'm sorry for upsetting you by kicking Ben but…you don't know about it all. I get angry sometimes but that doesn't make me a bad person!" Jemmy grumbled, not really listening to Qui-Gon's answer.

"We all have done something we regret in the past. I myself have more faults," Jinn reflected, perching on the end of her bed, "than I would like to admit to, although I do work hard at trying to eradicate them."

Jemmy looked at him, confused…puzzled…

Intrigued perhaps? Like she was seeing him with new eyes.

"You? But you don't do anything bad." The small face took on a serious, questioning quality. "I can't imagine you doing something terrible."

"I told you. Nobody's perfect." Qui-Gon countered. "And yes, there are some things that I regret from my childhood. Idiotic things mainly that I could have avoided if I'd only listened to the advice of others who were wiser than I."

"Like what?"

Clearly she was in the mood for a story.

"Well," Qui-Gon let his mind flit back to his early padawan days, when he had been a studious if overconfident young man with hardly a care in the world; "my one regret must seem rather trivial now, looking back on it. It all started when I was thirteen…maybe fourteen. I knew I was far from being a perfect student but I never doubted, in my supreme self-belief, that one day I would be just that. I was very proud and loyal to my friends - or liked to think so. But pride comes before a fall as the saying goes. My own fall was not a pleasant one…"

~~~~~~~~~

"Padawan Jinn." Zia beckoned the young man forward, whiskers flickering up and down in truly animated fashion. The squirrel-like face at once appraised the former initiate, noting how far the boy had shot up in recent months. Far taller than she now, and likely to keep growing indefinitely until he was as elevated as a tree on her home planet of Kavia Prime! One day Zia knew she would get a sore neck from craning her head upward to speak to him. "I expect you are wondering why you have been called to visit me at the crèche, yes?"

Qui-Gon offered up a stiff little nod. He HAD been wondering ever since the invitation to speak with the crèche leader had been offered to him. At thirteen and with a master of his own he had no business to return, even if it was nice to catch up with some of the kinder masters he'd known as a child. Zia was always friendly, always welcoming, with her twitchy nose and big, bold rodent eyes.

But why was had he been summoned?

"You are not in trouble for any reason that I am aware." Zia offered him the rodent equivalent of a smile. "Not that I have been made aware of, at any rate! Besides, discipline is now a matter for your master. Although whilst we are on the subject," Zia ground her teeth against one another as she tried to think of the words, "I have been speaking with Master Yoda. I talked with him for a long while. I wished to make certain that he was prepared to go along with a proposal that I had in mind…"

"A proposal?" Qui-Gon's brow knitted tightly together. What was this? Was Yoda trying to palm him off on the crèche? Had he tired of him already? Was it punishment for something he had done, or something the troll knew he was going to do?

Zia held out a padded paw, and in the centre there was a folded scrap of what appeared to be green shimmer silk. The color instantly caught the padawan's eye, marvelling at the way the light travelled over the fabric, glinting and gliding as Zia's furry hand shook slightly.

"Master Onnath, what is this?" Jinn peered curiously at the object, not wanting to appear too eager to find out what was at the bottom of her mysterious behavior. "Is this for me?"

"Take it, young man." The squirrel voice piped up, the high-pitch causing Qui-Gon to flinch.

"Is it a gift?" Qui-Gon picked up the tiny parcel and weighted in his hands, trying to feel what it might be before he opened it. It wasn't at all heavy. In fact, if it had been Dex offering this present then he might well have assumed that when he unwrapped it there would be nothing in the centre other than thin air. Zia however was nothing like Dex - which was probably just as well for the initiates.

"But padawans are not allowed to accept gifts without the permission of their masters…ah, I see." Qui-Gon slowly began to peel back the carefully folded silk, bit by bit, determined to keep the surprise to the end. A gift! For him! Who was it from? "You asked Master Yoda if I could have this?"

"I did." Zia replied, head bowed solemnly. "It is a most unusual situation. Normally this would not be allowed, but the circumstances are novel…"

"Novel?" echoed Qui-Gon, letting the last fold fall open until all that was left was a single square of material. Something glinted as it fell out of the silk, making a light metallic sound as it hit the wooden floor surface. He bent down to examine the silver circlet.

It was a ring.

//Now, hang on! When Zia said she had a proposal, I didn't think she meant that kind! Just what has Yoda agreed to here?// Qui-Gon felt mildly panicky at the thought. He liked Zia well enough, but the fact that she was a midget squirrel and he a human padawan seemed to render that down to zero importance! Then there was the age gap. Two hundred years difference was rather a lot to bridge in terms of experience!

//What am I thinking?" Qui-Gon shook his head in disgust. //Talk about an imagination…//

"It was left for you, by your mother." Zia explained, studying young Qui-Gon's face as the bright blue eyes lit up in astonishment. "She gave it into our safekeeping, just as she entrusted you to our safekeeping. Normally we do not have such things happening. Most parents are too sad at the prospect of giving up a child to think about giving gifts as well. But this ring belonged to her and she wanted you to keep it so that you would have some momento of her in years to come."

Qui-Gon felt lost for words. His mother had obviously thought a lot of him if she had given him something as precious and beautiful as this ring to keep. Not even Dex could boast of such a thing. And Yoda had agreed? That in a way was the most surprising thing.

"He wasn't too happy at first," Zia partially read his mind, watching the pensive frown deepen still further, "but he agreed in principle that as it was yours he had no reason to keep it from you. All he asks is that you keep it to yourself and do not wear it on your person. He fears that such a beautiful thing might arouse feelings of jealousy in other padawans."

"But such a lovely thing deserves to be seen!" argued Qui-Gon. "I am proud and honored to have been given such a gift! I wish to wear it."

The face began to tighten into the sullen, determined lines that Zia had long ago recognized from the boy's days in the crèche, when Qui-Gon would follow his own instincts be they right or wrong. Zia sighed irritably. Perhaps Yoda was right - maybe they should have kept hold of it for longer. Qui-Gon was obviously determined to honor his mother, and if that meant defying Yoda's wishes then it looked like he'd go ahead…

"Thank you, Zia." Qui-Gon bowed low again in deference to the aged master. "I will consider all you have said…"

The unspoken 'but' hung in the air for a long time after Qui-Gon had left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And so in the end Yoda felt that I should be allowed to keep the ring. It was after all my own property and it didn't belong to the temple." Qui-Gon explained, trying to keep his eyes from straying towards the ugly toy Gundark he'd long since learned to avoid. "I think he looked on it as a test of my character. He wanted to see what I would do, if I would be arrogant enough to wear it. I'd never really given any thought to my birth parents before, or who they might have been. The temple doesn't tend as a rule to encourage that sort of thing. But I was so suddenly smitten with the idea that I had something that everyone else in the temple did not - a mother who cared - that I chose to ignore his advice to keep the ring safely tucked away where no harm could befall it."

Jemmiah tried not to seem too curious. "What did happen to it?" She asked him.

"I was foolish. I…I wore it on a chain around my neck. It was like a talisman to me in someways. I almost felt unbeatable! Then one day I conned Dex in joining me for a jaunt in the city…" his face reddened slightly, remembering that he was speaking to a young girl, and that he should be setting an example to her, not encouraging any wild behavior. "We sneaked into a cantina. Ridiculous really because Dex was far too young looking and I wasn't much better. That didn't stop them from serving us."

"Really?" Jemmiah sounded interested, leaning on her hand. "Which cantina was this?"

"I'm not telling you! Because what happened next is an example of how not to behave! We ended up slightly the worse for wear. Nothing too drastic - we could still walk in a straight line. But," Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reliving the scene over and over in his head; "we must have been followed out into the streets. The next thing we knew we were set upon by three rather viscous looking thugs. Normally it wouldn't have posed a problem for either of us but as I said we were…"

"Molassed?" supplied Jemmiah.

"In a word, yes."

Even after all that time had passed he could still remember it. Dex threatening to chop everyone to pieces with his lightsabre, the feeling of some sort of rag being placed over his nose - and then eventually waking up in the alleyway with Dex lying in a stupor at his feet, whilst he…

His precious gift had been stolen.

Worst of all, Yoda had somehow known.

"I felt really bad when I tried to explain that I had managed to lose my mother's present to me in such a humiliating way. Beaten up and anaesthetised by thieves, in a place we shouldn't have been whilst ever so slightly intoxicated. I am telling you, I learned a harsh lesson that day - one I took great pains never to repeat. I've only ever drank in moderation - and even then only occasionally - from that time on."

"And what did Master Yoda say?" Jemmy squinted at him, catching the half-shudder that Qui-Gon had tried so valiantly to cover up. "Was it bad?"

"It was worse than bad. He never shouted, or raised his voice to me. He just looked at me…" Qui-Gon shook his head, wanting to brush away the memory and expunge the distaste it left behind. "I have rarely felt such crushing humiliation. The disappointment and the sadness on that lined face of his: I can still see it. Master Yoda can convey so much without even uttering a sound. There was no need for words. It was a test and I had failed it. I had lost my mother's gift to me and what was worse I had lost my master's respect"

"But you were just a kid then!" Jemmiah found herself defending him as she invariably did when he started to blame himself for any failings brought to his attention. "All kids do goofy things now and again! I know I have."

"And that's precisely why I am using this example, to show you that you don't have make mistakes like everyone else. No, you are a long way from being perfect Jemmiah - but even the most priceless Corusca jewels have flaws."

"I'm not a diamond - I'm a pebble." Groused Jemmiah, her indignant expression turning to disgruntled self-loathing.

"Yes, well that's where you are wrong. You have to learn to look behind the face you think you see in the mirror. Just don't make the same mistakes I did, that's all. Learn from my mistakes. Use them as an example of what NOT to do."

"But I want to be just like you!" Jemmy surprised him by saying.

"That's very flattering," Qui-Gon stood up, not feeling any happier about bearing his soul Jemmiah, "but if I may use one of your favorite quotes, 'who's the more foolish? The fool, or the fool who follows him'…"

"Yeah, yeah." Jemmy turned away in disgust. "Okay, I'll do my best not to be stupid like you."

"Thank you - I think." Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes.

His long strides took him back over to the doorway, but he stopped just short of going out. Instead he rested his forehead against the wall, thinking back over something Jemmiah had said.

"One moment…you said you apologized to Obi-Wan BEFORE you kicked him?" Jinn frowned.

"Yeah." Jemmy grunted. "Wished I hadn't bothered. I should have just kicked the rat, no questions!"

"Why did you kick him?" Demanded the master, determined to get to the bottom of the affair. If he could sit there and discuss his own foolishness then the least Jemmiah could do was to tell the truth. But would she?

"Coz he asked me to!" Jemmiah's chin stuck out indignantly.

"What?!?!"

"Master Jinn, what day is it tomorrow?" she asked rhetorically, hoping that Qui-Gon would finally catch on at long last.

"Well, it's…it's…" Qui-Gon paused. "Obi-Wan's turn to take some of the initiates to play Gabali in the training rooms. That's it, isn't it?"

"Right. And what happens when he plays Gabali with the initiates?"

"They trample him to death and hit him with their sticks…and he ends up being treated in the infirmary?" Hazarded Qui-Gon.

"Obi-Wan's not very good with the squidlings." Jemmy agreed. "They like him coz they think he lets them win, but he doesn't. He's just very bad at Gabali. So he said he was looking for a way out of tomorrow's next round of humiliation and said he wished I'd give him a real good kick in the shin." Jemmiah sighed mournfully. "So I did."

For a moment Qui-Gon said nothing. Then he turned and waked out through the open doorway, leaving enough of a gap so that Jemmiah could hear what he had to say. She certainly didn't have very long to wait.

"Padawan, I've decided that as you are so badly injured you are not going to be able to take the initiates class tomorrow."

"Thank you, master!" Obi-Wan sounded calm, if relieved.

"But you'll take the swimming class instead. Water is very good for aches and bruises. Just what you need to stop your leg from stiffening up, I should think. A little gentle exercise…"

Jemmiah could tell by the dread-laced pause that followed exactly what Obi-Wan thought of that idea! Poor Ben! Nothing he did ever seemed destined to go right, through no fault of his own. Whatever, it was the last good deed she was ever doing for anyone ever again. And she would try to take onboard what Qui-Gon had said about not being perfect, that she was different to Obi-Wan but not necessarily less important than him, and that she should always listen to an elder's advice because they were older and had experienced things.

Although she still wanted to find out the name of that cantina…

Qui-Gon popped his head back round the door and smiled.

"Honor is restored, I think."

"Yeah." Jemmy grinned back at him, lying along her bed and resting her head on her hands, trying to appear nonchalant. "Er…Master Jinn?"

"What is it, Tangles?"

"There was a message from Master Sovalla on the holo transmitter. Something about you taking the initiates on the next camping trip…"

Qui-Gon jumped in the air as if he had been stung. And then…

Then he did something rather odd.

"Jemmiah," he rolled up the leg of his trouser pants and pointed to his shin, "would you please - if I ask you very nicely - kick me?"


	2. This Precious Thing: Part Two

This Precious Thing: Part Two

By Jemmiah

***********

"I told you before, I do not wish you loitering on the way home from school."

"But…"

"No buts! Just kindly do as I say." Qui-Gon observed the petulant twelve-year-old whilst standing with his hands on his hips so that he might look as if he had some authority over her. "Now, Evla will not be back for seven days. I expect you to behave."

"I always behave." Jemmiah scowled back at him.

"When it suits you to do so. I know it's never easy when Evla is sent to collect a new child bound for the crèche but whilst you are living under…"

"…my roof I expect you to do as you are told." Jemmiah finished the well-worn phrase for him. She had after all heard it many times before. "Yeah, okay."

"Good." Qui-Gon nodded approvingly, moving towards his room to pick up his cloak. "But please, this time try and sound as if you actually mean it. I do not want a repeat of yesterday."

"But I saw this dog wandering around the streets! And it was limping, so I went to see if it was okay, that's all!"

"I don't care." Qui-Gon warned her, his tone brooking no argument. "I do not wish to see you wandering round darkened alleyways. That is just asking for trouble as well you know. There are some very…" he sought the right words, "…dubious characters around and I do not want you visiting the sort of places that they frequent. Is that understood?"

Jemmy looked down miserably at the floor. Inside she was seething, but shouting at Qui-Gon would achieve nothing except an even bigger punishment than the one she had already got for being late home from school the day before. He'd been worried of course, she knew that, but still Jemmiah didn't feel the punishment in anyway fitted the crime. Helping the droids out with the laundry…yuck!

"Yes sir." She growled.

"Good." Qui-Gon relaxed slightly more, and lightened his voice accordingly. "End of lecture. I don't argue with you for the sake of it Jemmiah. I do it because you obviously need to hear the words. Sometimes you are your own worst enemy. If you do not act in a way that shows you are responsible and mindful of your own safety then I will have to insist that you revert back to getting an aircab to pick you up from school again."

Jemmiah groaned at the thought. "But I'll get laughed at! Aircabs are for babies!"

"You used to take the aircab back to the temple." Qui-Gon pointed out reasonably.

"But that was last year! I'm grown-up now!"

Qui-Gon shook his head, greatly saddened. The unfortunate thing was that she regarded it as being true. Whilst she was finally beginning to grow a little fuller in her figure and perhaps a shade taller there was no way that a twelve year old could be called an adult, not under any circumstances. Her naturally rebellious spirit was beginning to kick in, but whatever she thought there was no way he could allow her the freedoms and responsibilities of an adult, however mature they thought they were.

He slid his arms into his cloak and walked towards the door. "I have to go out. Do you think you can keep out of trouble whilst I am gone?"

It had been badly worded and Qui-Gon knew the moment he had said it that Jemmiah had been hurt. He should really have apologized but perhaps at the back of his mind there was the small matter of the dread he had felt when she'd been late to arrive home…and the annoyance and worry did not tend to make him go easy on her. Not yet, at any rate.

"I shall see you when I return. Obi-Wan will be here shortly to keep an eye on you."

And with that Qui-Gon left the apartment, cloak billowing behind.

Jemmiah gritted her teeth. That had been uncalled for! He still seemed to see her as some small kid! Okay, maybe he was right up to a point about her not coming back home when she should have but she had given him her reasons - good reasons - which were well intentioned. Had he listened? When did he ever? And now she was having a padawan baby sitter foisted on her! The indignity!

She had no choice but to obey him. To flout his edicts once again would cause only further punishments. Not that Jemmiah could imagine anything worse than having to sift through initiate's undergarments…

********

For the next few days Jemmiah made absolutely certain that she was home right on time just as Qui-Gon instructed. There seemed little point in stirring things further between them, even though the look he always gave her on arriving home was deeply suspicious, silently questioning the mischief she had been up to that day. To say that Jemmy resented his behavior was an understatement of immense proportions, but for the sake of peace she had bit her tongue and said nothing. Qui-Gon was at the centre of all her problems at the moment, not least because for the last seven or so days Jemmiah had been struggling to think of a birthday present for the jedi master, without any enlightenment whatsoever. 

She'd wanted to ask him what he wanted, or what he needed, but the answer would have been in the negative to both questions. A jedi had no real need for gifts or presents. Their lives were not fixed in routine, and possessions usually became unnecessary clutter. Jemmy however always liked to get him something small, just to say thank you for everything he had done for her. Not that she was certain he actually deserved it this year…

Evla usually helped her out with ideas for gifts, but this time Evla was not going to be there on Qui-Gon's birthday, which meant Jemmiah had to do it herself. And the only time she had to do it in was right after school…

He would not be happy. But surely even Qui-Gon would understand when she handed him his present.

The week had gone by too quickly for Jemmiah to count, until the day of Qui-Gon's birthday had arrived. He had to leave early that morning, with Obi-Wan seeing her to the transport that would take her to school. Jemmiah felt somewhat deprived of her chance to wish the master a happy birthday, which was rendered all the worse by the fact she might not actually have anything for him when she came back from school. Her alternatives were threefold. Firstly she could skip school and look for something during class time, but she felt uncomfortable with the idea of doing so and besides which the school would call the temple to see why she hadn't turned up - and Qui-Gon would NOT be happy. 

Secondly, she could revert to plan B and disobey Qui-Gon's 'no loitering' rule. She knew that he wouldn't particularly like that one either.

Thirdly, she could get him nothing, which would probably be Qui-Gon's preferred option but to her the most abhorrent. No, there was nothing else for it. She'd have to search after school.

Not that the idea of shopping by herself was a particularly pleasant one. For Jemmiah, shopping was a social event; even if it was window-shopping and no credits were spent whatsoever. She liked being out with Evla. On Corellia, her aunt made such a fuss of her that her shopping expeditions could last an entire week near enough! Too bad that the stuff she came back laden down with was just too impractical for wearing at the temple. Neither Qui-Gon nor any of the other jedi would ever let her wear it. Poor, spoiled little rich girl…

Today she was neither spoiled or rich, for the money she was permitted to have was all tied up in a special account somewhere on Corellia, where she could never hope to get her hands on it until she was of age. Just because she was grown up now didn't signify anything on Corellia. The laws were funny there, she had soon found out. Marriage was legal at a ridiculously early age, and the drinking laws - if there were any - seemed perfectly invisible. Yet when it came to matters of inheritance and finance, you could forget it until you reversed the two and the one of her present age and made it twenty-one instead.

Which was a pity, because this was one of the few days since she had arrived on Coruscant two years ago that she really wished she had a little money put aside… 

**********

School came and went with the usual unbearable monotony.

Lessons had been dull and uninspiring, except for the usual painting and drawing, which the Corellian excelled at. Even though it was her favorite class, Jemmy had little thoughts other than the same problem that had vexed her all day: what was she to get Quiggy as a gift? It would have to be inexpensive, to say the least! Jemmiah didn't mind her somewhat impoverished affairs on Coruscant as a general rule. It wasn't like it was going to be forever, but when it mattered - such as birthdays and the like - Jemmiah always felt terrible about not being able to get anyone something substantial. Qui-Gon would be about the first one to remind her how the Jedi were not supposed to have much in the way of material goods, but even so Jemmiah hated the idea that birthdays and special occasions went unmarked. After all, Qui-Gon always made sure that she was looked after. It was time to return the kindness.

So, what WAS she to purchase with her meagre amount of credits? What did you get the jedi that didn't need anything?

//If it was Ben, I could buy him socks. At least HE needs those.// Jemmy shuffled along the pedestrian walkway, not altogether certain where she was heading for. //What I really need is something that Master J can look at. Something decorative, like those glass animals you can get in some jeweller's shops. I might be able to afford a small one…but I'm not sure where the nearest one would be! And I'm not stopping to ask anyone, coz like Quiggy said there are some very strange people about! Well, it looks like I'll just have to rely on my wits and cunning…//

By that, Jemmy meant looking in each and every direction before closing her eyes and stabbing with her finger and taking potluck.

There were still hours of daylight left but as she stared up at the tall buildings Jemmiah suddenly felt as if they were all closing in on her, casting their shadows over the ground in preparation for when it became dark. That was when Coruscant really came to life, everyone said. Jemmiah wouldn't know about such things: Qui-Gon and Evla between them made sure of that!

She'd stay at ground level, Jemmy decided. That way if anything untoward should happen, or if one of the undesirable people that Qui-Gon mentioned decided to try something, she could easily run away. Not so easy when you had to rely on turbo lifts to get from 'A' to 'B'. The idea of walking around the streets and alleyways that made up the maze of Coruscant's gigantic city did not appeal to Jemmiah too much either, but she had made up her mind: she would do it for Qui-Gon. Even if Qui-Gon himself would not approve.

Everyone saw Coruscant in terms of bright, neon lights - the capital! A place of adventure and excitement, where dreams could be realized. Everything was sparkling…

Jemmy always saw the place in terms of endless stories of permacrete buildings in varying architectural styles. It was all black and grim to her, like looking up at giant tombstones that nearly blotted out the sky. The closer she got to them, the more claustrophobic she began to feel. High in the sky above the aircabs zoomed, intersecting each other with such precision that Jemmy always held her breath to see them for fear they might crash.

Her wanderings eventually took her away from the main pedestrian walkways towards the darkened alleyways created by the older, shorter buildings that had been built over different periods of time, placed due to lack of space far too close to one another to be comfortable. These were a mixture of housing blocks and buildings used for commerce purposes, but Jemmiah was of the firm opinion that the lot should just be scrapped and pulled down. There in the alleyways there was barely the slightest hint of light, and even in the daylight the streets were permanently lit, much good that it did. Jemmiah hesitated for a brief moment, questioning the sense in heading down somewhere that was clearly not the most desirable of places to be. Master Jinn would surely be very angry if she did…

Perhaps that specific challenge was what had persuaded her feet to move forward, even whilst contemplating her total idiocy. At least there were lots of craft shops, skilled persons that specialised in glasswork and jewellery and the like. Perhaps she might find something here? Aware of the stairwell that led down under the ground as if to the very bowels of hell itself, Jemmiah moved away from the steps and further on, but now so hesitantly that she wondered if she could steel herself to go on much further without getting into a blue funk. It was like something out of a nightmare she'd had! Everything so dark, and knowing that in the old streets under the ground her feet stood on there were all manner of dispossessed people and abandoned creatures roaming about in the sub-levels. Jemmy took in a quick breath -

Was that a rat???

Something in the shadows scuttled away, causing the hair on the back of Jemmy's neck to stand up.

This was stupid! What was she doing here? Qui-Gon was right - who could tell who might be lurking in the backstreets, waiting to pounce. Maybe even Merdan's men, waiting their chance to snatch her back…

Jemmy felt her knees go weak and wobbly, and she leant against a wall for support, trying to calm herself until the momentary panic attack had passed. Perhaps she should not have strayed so far from the main streets? Yes, that was the thing to do! Once she'd stopped quaking so much, all she had to do was retrace her steps back to the pedestrian walkway and she'd be fine! There were so many people around that nobody would try anything in plain sight. Not for the first time since embarking upon her mission to find Master Jinn a gift had Jemmiah began to seriously regret her foolish behavior.

People HAD been snatched off the streets in the past, it was true. You got to hear of it on the holo news channels, even although Qui-Gon tried his best to protect her from all the bad stuff that went on a round her, which of course was impossible. She hadn't been naïve at ten when he'd rescued her and now with a further two years of existence under her belt she certainly wasn't any less aware of the unpleasant side of human nature. But short of not letting her have access to the holo news or banning her from watching vids, what was the man to do? Briefly she spared a flash of sympathy for her co-guardian. It was rare that she got such insight into how difficult it must be for him, even if she felt certain he never in return ventured to step into her shoes and see it from her side of the fence. She knew that he was worried when she came home late, but that in turn only led Jemmiah to be more concerned herself. Why would he worry if there were no threat to her? And was he talking about a general threat, or a more specific one? Did he believe that Merdan would come looking for her, just as he had sworn he would?

The thought of Merdan made her shake even more.

"This is stupid." Jemmy tried to bolster her own confidence by speaking reassuring words to herself. "You're afraid of the day you've never seen!"

Or was that the day she might not get to see?

"Oh, shut up!" she told herself crossly, forcing her legs forward once more. "There's nothing there. There is absolutely nothing there. There are no rats…just shadows and your silly imagination."

A loud thud sounded somewhere up ahead in the dark, as if something had been pushed against another object rather heavily, knocking it over. Once again the wild-eyed Corellian flattened herself against the wall in the dark. That had been no rat! Fortunately for herself she was still small and thin enough to roll herself up into a virtually obscure ball and hide in the shadows, taking care that she obscured the bright colored skirt of her uniform with the dark jacket. 

A fight! There was some kind of fight going on! She'd learned in the past when to hide from those and to notice nothing. Amazing how quickly one could fall back into the old ways of becoming deaf and blind again to everything, just so it would keep you alive that little bit longer! Muffled grunts and protests could be heard from the adjacent alleyway, along with more accompanying thuds, and Jemmiah felt fairly certain that some poor hapless individual was being systematically worked over. The noise made her want to be sick... 

The sounds stopped, only to be replaced by a thunder of feet as the aggressors fled from the scene of their crime, past where Jemmiah had crouched, so close that she could feel the rush of displaced air as their legs whizzed past. They were in too much of a hurry to even notice she was there which was fortunate for her, but it made Jemmy balk at the idea of having to go and investigate exactly what they had done. 

//I'm so scared I can hardly move!// Jemmiah admitted, examining her shaking hands. //Look at me, I'm a wreck! But…if someone's hurt then I can't leave them, can I?//

But did she really want to be the only witness to yet another crime? The last time that had happened, Rufus Merdan had a death sentence placed on her head. The last thing she needed was yet more enemies out to get her. A groan sounded not far away, muffled, as if the one who'd issued it was lying with their face pressed close to the permacrete ground.

Who else was there? And if the situation were reversed, wouldn't she want somebody to come to her aid?

Swallowing back her not inconsiderable fear, Jemmiah inched nervously along the wall as far and as fast as her shaking limbs would carry her. It took her several moments before she reached the corner of the building, worrying about the rats that might try to clamber over her shoes and not wanting to think what might face her when she finally rallied herself to peek round the edge…

Jemmiah's feet came into contact with something but it certainly wasn't a rat, much to her relief. It was soft and lightweight, yet enough for her to know that she'd stepped upon something. Bending down to take a closer look at the object Jemmy's fingers groped around until they located what at first glance seemed like a large piece of leather, but on closer inspection it appeared to be a wallet of some highly decorated kind she'd never seen before. There were monogrammed initials on the front that she tried to trace with her finger, hoping to work out what the letters could be. 

Had the criminals thrown this away? But why throw away a wallet?

Her answer came when she managed to open the broken catch: there was no money inside. The thieves had obviously taken all that had been in there. There was nothing else except for a rather old looking holo flimsy pic, which being the personal property of someone Jemmy decided to leave alone in it's little pocket.

Another slight moan persuaded Jemmy to tuck the wallet away into her jacket and look at exactly what damage had been done, and to whom. It sounded like a man and that instantly made Jemmy wary, Qui-Gon's warnings ringing in her head once again. Even people who were hurt and vulnerable were sometimes not quite as helpless as they liked to make out. Finally leaning round the corner she could just about make out by the poor light of the flashing neon signs above, the shape of a man lying hunched and stunned upon the ground. But, Jemmy noted to her surprise, it was an elderly man. How very typical of the vrelts who'd decided to prey upon somebody weaker than them! If there was a trick here Jemmy couldn't see it, but still she made her way over to the huddled shape on the ground with extreme wariness.

"Sir?" Jemmy's voice wavered for a moment, fighting not to sound so weak. "Are you okay, sir?"

The old man, stunned as he was, seemed to register the new voice with much relief. The skin on his knuckles appeared bruised and torn judging by the way he regarded them, and then when he attempted to half sit up he placed a hand to his side as if nursing some hurt.

"Do you want me to call for a medic?" Jemmy wondered, not wanting to get too close until she knew that she would be safe. "Or I could run for help…"

The man spared her a quick glance, then after falling into a quick paroxysm of coughing, began to search around on the ground for something with his bloodied fingers.

"I don't think you should move. Perhaps they've hurt you more than you know. That sometimes happens when you get roughed up." At least she could speak from experience, Jemmiah thought with a grimace. "Is there any way I can help you at all?"

The man continued his searching of the ground next to where he had fallen, becoming more and more agitated with every passing moment. Jemmiah watched him for a moment, lowering herself to his level by sitting back on her haunches and trying her best to ignore the tight school skirt that had managed to ride up to the top of her thighs. "Sir?"

"M-my wallet…" the man wheezed, still feeling the affects of the knock to his side. "I think they must have taken it. They jumped me and then I dropped it on the ground. Next thing I knew I was on the ground with it…but they must have picked it up."

Jemmy recoiled slightly, remembering exactly what she had in her jacket. It was true she could hand the wallet over to him but it was totally empty! Wouldn't that cause him just as much distress as having it missing? But her conscience would not permit it, for the wallet was not hers to keep. Besides, what would she do with it?

"I'll help you look." Jemmy murmured, glancing down at her feet and pretending to feel around in the dark for the missing belonging. She half turned, waiting for the old man to look away, and as he did so took the small amount of credits she had and slipped them into the wallet, hoping that at least it would buy him some bacta pads for his injuries. It meant of course that she would be in REAL trouble now, for not only would Qui-Gon not get any present, it ensured that she had no money to catch an air cab - and that in turn meant she would have to walk home, by which time she really would be late! 

And Qui-Gon would be very worried.

Still, deep down she would have the small consolation of knowing that she'd done the right thing. Who could tell, in time maybe Qui-Gon would understand and approve of what she had done, although she wasn't about to hold her breath. Shaking the image of his stern disapproval from her mind, Jemmiah cleared her throat.

"Ahem…I think I may have found it." She pretended to pick something off the ground before turning back round to face her. "Here, is this what you were looking for?"

The man looked up sharply; eyes burning brightly even in the dingy light.

"That's…that's it!" he let out a long, drawn-out breath, hardly able to contain his gratitude. "You found it! Oh, my goodness!" The hand was transferred from his side to his heart, and for a moment Jemmy wondered if he was going to collapse through heart failure. Instead however, she saw only an exaggerated gesture of relief. "I can't tell you that's the best news I've ever heard in a long time…I don't know what I'd have done if it had been lost forever!"

Jemmy bit her lip, wondering what he would say when he discovered how much money he had in his wallet but dutifully handed the little leather billfold over to him, getting as close as she dared. Up close she could see that although he had grey hair, almost white in fact, the face was perhaps not as old as she had at first thought. He couldn't have been older than mid sixties, and now that she could see him close up, Jemmy could tell the gleaming eyes that had cut out from amidst the gloom were clearly a rather vivid blue color, rather like Obi-Wan's. Instantly it made Jemmy relax a little, deciding that she quite liked him.

As his fingers went to open the broken catch Jemmy thought she could detect a trace of anxiety and she too found herself holding her own breath as the wallet was duly opened, but the astonishment she felt at seeing his face crack into a wide, roguish grin increased tenfold when he initially ignored the money and went straight instead to the holopic in the side pocket instead.

"Thank the gods for this." He looked heavenward and blew a small kiss up towards the high building tops and beyond. "If this had gone…I don't know what I'd have done. This is the most precious thing I have…I know it doesn't look like much," he grunted, trying to put weight upon his swollen ankle, "but it's the only holo I have of my dear wife." The man's eyes softened slightly, moistening somewhat at the corners. "I know we shouldn't put so much store on possessions but it was a very special picture taken on a very special moment. I, er…lost the others in a fire not too long ago. I have very little now to remind me of my good lady. She…she died earlier this year."

"I'm sorry." Jemmy felt awkward, not knowing what to say for the best.

"So now when I have a bad day, or I'm feeling low, I look at this picture and it reminds me of how lucky I have been…silly I know, but it does help to have some sort of crutch you can lean on. Stops you from going crazy!"

Jemmiah thought instantly of her own diary and understood completely what he meant. How many times had she poured her heart out into its electronic pages? How many days had she spent wondering if she could manage with out it?

"It's not silly." Jemmy replied gently, tensing as the man looked into the section that held all his money. To her surprise the man did nothing more than blink in astonishment. Then finally, one gleaming, scrutinising eye held her a prisoner in his gaze, cannily taking her measure.

"I think this must be yours." He replied, holding the credits out to her in his hand.

***********

Jemmy had helped him into the main turbo lift of the building she'd found him under, intent on seeing him safely back to his home, which by all accounts was directly above the place where he worked. Some kind of jewellery store he'd said, selling a mixture of antique and modern rings and necklaces of all kinds and shapes. It had taken a lot of swallowing of principles to get herself into the lift with a strange man after all Qui-Gon's warnings, but he didn't look like any kind of weirdo. Besides which he was hurt, and if he tried anything funny she could kick him in the ankle and then run…

Then again, how did you run in a turbo lift?

When the doors opened she felt nothing but extreme relief. The man, leaning slightly on her shoulder had to negotiate half of the landing to get to his door and so Jemmiah had obligingly stuck with him until they'd reached his lodgings above the store. As far as Jemmy was concerned, that was her duty done. Yet her conscience plagued her once again. He could hardly walk on his own! And whilst he wasn't old in the sense that he was decrepit and unable to look after himself, the man was clearly in a lot of pain. Did she just leave him now, or did she at least manoeuvre him into a comfortable chair, where she could put on a cold compress of some kind?

//Qui-Gon will kill me.// she reminded herself. //But I can't just leave him…//

She sighed, waiting for the door to slide open, then helped him to hobble inside, and trying not to think how she had easily surpassed her earlier brainless behavior. Here she was, standing in the middle of a room with a strange man she had never met before until fifteen minutes earlier, him with his arm draped around her shoulder…it made her just want to drop him on the ground where he stood and run! Still, she thought as she looked about her at all the glass cases of jewellery and sparkling chains and bracelets, surely it wouldn't hurt to have a quick look around? Maybe he would have something she could buy cheaply for Qui-Gon. Then maybe that way the master wouldn't be so mad at her!

"I don't understand how you knew that I had put that money in your wallet." Jemmiah decided to act as if she were slightly put-out, rather than show how afraid she was deep down of walking headfirst into a potentially dangerous situation. The man smiled warmly back at her.

"I didn't carry any money in that wallet, for the reason that one day I might very well be attacked and robbed in the street. As you can see," the eyes sparkled mischievously, "I was right! My pocket book stays on my person at all times. If they'd cared to search me they would have found it, but," he wheezed as Jemmy helped to lower him into an old, tattered looking chair, "they went for the most obvious target - my wallet. As I've never actually heard of muggers jumping a person and forcing money into their wallets at knifepoint, I knew that it had to be you that had placed the credits in there. Of course, if I'd any sense I'd have taken that holo pic out so they couldn't have snatched it…" 

He paused for a moment, looking her up and down. "I owe you my thanks for all the help you've given me. Not many people would have been so kind."

"That's okay." Jemmy shrugged at him, still slightly nervous and casting little looks towards the door, making sure that she could get out of she wanted to. "Have you got anything for that ankle? I still say that you should have let me call someone…"

"I'll be fine, really." He held up a hand, waving away her protests. "I'm a tough old cradgit, me! My name's Wilken Stubs. I've lived in this place for oh," the man scratched at his head, contemplating his answer, "nigh over forty years now. Most people round here have heard of me. I understand your nervousness young lady, but I assure you that you have no need to be. I don't harbor any desire to harm you, especially after being so kind to me."

Jemmiah blushed to her roots. "It's just that my guardian would have a fit if he knew I was in somebody's house like this…a stranger, I mean. He's always reminding me how dangerous it is…"

"Wise man." Nodded Wilken commendingly. "Dangerous times we live in. Dangerous and unpredictable."

"Yeah," Jemmy agreed, fighting off her desire to back-pedal to the door. "I'm already in a lot of trouble. I told him I'd go home straight away and I'm hours late already! But I wanted to get him a birthday present and this was all the time I had left to do it in." Jemmy let her shoulders sag dispiritedly. "If I'm not back home soon I will most likely be grounded until I'm twenty one! Hey," she suggested cautiously, her Corellian accent becoming slightly more pronounced, "I don't s'pose you've got anything in here that would do for an inexpensive gift, have you?"

The man raised an amused eyebrow at the word inexpensive but refrained from saying anything.

"Maybe something like…I dunno…" Jemmy tried to think of something that would be useful to Qui-Gon, and failed miserably.

"Take a look round the cases, if you wish." The man nodded at the glass containers that were stacked up towards the back of the room. "This is mostly stock that I have taken off display, for one reason or another. If there's anything there that you think would do then we'll see if we can't work out some kind of deal."

Deal? Jemmy immediately stiffened at his words, suspicious. What kind of deal? It wasn't like she had much money to deal with and he would know this, seeing as how he'd seen exactly the amount of credits she'd placed into his wallet. Still on her guard and never completely turning her back, Jemmy wandered over to look at the cases.

It was all beautiful of course. Most of it was women's jewellery; from delicate necklaces to wondrous animal shaped broaches, and intricate rings with inset gems. Of course, even if it had been practical (which it wasn't seeing as how Qui-Gon was definitely male) the price range was just too high. One item caught her eye; a hip flask that she could actually see either Qui-Gon or Ben carrying with them. Not that Jedi drank on active service so to speak, unless they were attending an official function or ball. Still, Jemmiah couldn't help but think that Qui-Gon would actually like it somehow. Again, however, it was well out of her price range. As for the kind of deal this man wanted to make, she wasn't certain she wanted to know…

"The hip flask does look kinda suitable." She admitted, considering outloud. "It's just that I'm not sure that I should…hey! Wait a moment!"

Jemmy looked down, pressing her nose quite close to the case next to the one containing the hip flask. One of the many objects on display, sitting on a little pad was a ring, silver in color with tiny, beautiful little scroll marks along the side, interspersed at regular intervals by the most fantastic blue-green stones she had ever seen, and in the centre the most flawless blue Corusca stone she could possibly have imagined. It almost appeared to glow and pulse with a life of its own as Jemmy examined it from every angle possible. She'd never seen it before, and yet it looked strangely familiar…

"I know!" Jemmy snapped her fingers as the stray memory presented itself fully in her brain. "Master Jinn's ring! That's what it reminds me of! The way he described it for me…hey, it's even got the little victory 'V' on the inside!"

"Pardon?!" Wilken whipped his head around to face her. "What did you say?"

"Master Jinn…that is to say my guardian…used to tell me about this ring he'd keep on a chain around his neck. He's a jedi master at the temple." Jemmiah couldn't help but puff her chest out at that impressive piece of information. "But one day he apparently lost it…had the ring stolen from him or something when he was coming out of a cantina! I always used to think that must be so embarrassing for him, being a Jedi and all! But this is exactly how he described it, even down to the inscribed 'V'. Isn't that funny, having two identical rings!" Jemmy grinned, covering her face with her hand. "Maybe his ring was less special than he thought!"

"Maybe." Wilken agreed quietly.

"I, e r…I don't have enough money to pay for anything here." Jemmiah shrugged, giving it up as a lost cause. "It's not like I have lots of money. The temple doesn't tend to like that sort of thing. Possessions are generally speaking frowned upon. Although Ben would probably tell you otherwise…" Jemmy couldn't help but remember all the vids and reflex training games the padawan had managed to 'collect' over the years.

"Take it." Wilken waved it away as no consequence.

"Sorry?

"Take it. It's little enough considering what you've done for me. It would only sit here gathering dust, as all possessions do in the end." He sighed, staring out of the Plexiglas window into the darkening sky. "I'll put it in a box for you if you wait a moment…"

"There's no need." Jemmy began to feel guilty for ever having doubted him. Somehow he brought to mind an image of Ben, only how he might look when he'd gotten old. There was a sadness, a gentleness about him that Jemmy found strangely endearing.

"It won't take a moment." He levered himself out of his seat, wincing as he tried to shuffle around on his painful ankle. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine! But you want this to look good, like a real present, don't you? That way when your Jedi Master sees the effort that you've gone to he might be slightly more forgiving for making him worry…"

Jemmy groaned mentally. Qui-Gon would surely know that she was missing. And not just missing as in late, but missing as in completely vanished without telling anyone where she was going. The first kind of missing would gain her a rebuke and a substantial grounding until he cared to review the situation, which included no talking to friends on the Holonet and general loss of privileges. The second type of missing - the really bad one - was going to see an argument the like she'd never before witnessed.

"May the force be with me on this one. I'm sure going to need it…" Jemmy muttered as Wilken disappeared to fetch a box for Qui-Gon's gift. She sat down in the man's vacated chair and waited, head in hands...

*********

"I TOLD you not to stay out late! How many times do I have to keep lecturing you on this point, Jemmiah?" Qui-Gon didn't raise his voice once, but his eyes held steel in them, letting Jemmiah know (if she hadn't worked it out already) that she had pushed her luck too far this time. The Corellian responded by not taking her eyes from her shoes for one single moment, submitting herself to his indignation and displeasure with meekness not usually associated with her. 

//And well she might hang her head!// Qui-Gon thought, thoroughly annoyed. //For this has gone on far too long! I will not stand for this disobedience either in my padawan or in her. Just because Obi-Wan can use the force doesn't mean that my lessons cannot apply any less to her!//

Obi-Wan had actually disappeared the moment the dreaded lecture had begun, but he alone had been a witness to Qui-Gon's distress when Jemmiah had finally turned up three and a half hours late, with dirty shoes and stockings that had run from foot to hem, with more than a suggestion of the girl having loitered around after school somewhere she should not. If it hadn't been visible from the tattered state of her clothes it could be read in her very face. Even although he had removed himself from the room, Qui-Gon could still feel the padawan's anxiety for Jemmiah through the force, trying to comfort her in the face of a very severe lecture indeed, something the apprentice had been on the receiving end of not a few times in his life.

"I will not tolerate this behavior in you." Qui-Gon shook his head, adamant on the point. "It's quite obvious to me that you wilfully disobeyed my instructions to come home immediately after your lessons were finished. And what were Obi-Wan and I supposed to think? Anything could have happened to you. Another half hour and we might very well have started searching for you on the streets!"

"I wasn't THAT late." Jemmiah mumbled under her breath.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing." Jemmy didn't even look up at him. It wasn't as if she hadn't deserved it after all. Maybe he was right? Perhaps she was just incurably bad? Maybe that was what came of living with people who were deemed to be wicked-living for so long. Perhaps that was how she would always be; a useless no-hoper, unteachable and irredeemable despite everyone's best efforts…

"We were both extremely concerned for your safety. I cannot look out for you every minute of every day. That is why I expect you to do as I tell you. You are your own worst enemy, Jemmiah! I've told you this before! You can help yourself by actually listening to what I say and doing what I tell you to! Now, I have no idea what it takes to get you to pay attention to what I'm saying but I have the feeling that you might remember it when I tell your uncle that you're staying half a year with him instead of four months."

Qui-Gon had never seen such a startled, horrified expression on anyone's face before. He'd seen Jemmiah try to get round him before by resorting to her repertoire of hurt, angst-ridden facial contortions but on this occasion there was no mistaking the genuine disbelief in the eyes that finally dared to meet his own.

"You don't mean that." Jemmy whispered. "That's not fair!"

"It's perfectly fair. You need time to think over all that I've said because it's quite obviously not sinking in on any level. You won't do that here, so where else should you go but to your uncle?" Qui-Gon folded his arms, rebuffing her dismay.

"Evla won't agree!" Jemmy felt the anger in her flare, gritting her teeth to stop her from saying something that would only serve to strengthen Qui-Gon's resolve. If she snapped now, that was as good as it. If she kept her temper and behaved well then there might still be a chance to talk him round when the dirt had settled.

"Evla will agree when she sees the situation for what it is. You have to learn when to follow commands…"

Jemmy couldn't help but laugh at that one. To Qui-Gon's surprise she issued him with a twisted version of a smile, sweeping into a low bow with one outstretched arm and going down slightly on one knee.

"Yes, master." She replied, challenging him to throw some retort back at him. 

Qui-Gon was stunned by her behavior.

"All a waste of time for me, really." Jemmy pulled herself upright again into a tight, straight-backed position. "Follow commands? Maybe I should have just stayed a slave."

It was as if she had spat directly in his face. She had no idea how much those words had affected him, or any way of realizing how often he had dreamt of what might have been, had he not taken Jemmiah with him on their flight from Nargotria. There were different kinds of rules on that hellish, nightmare of a planet then there were here, and if he hadn't got her to see that then he had truly failed. But to suggest he would willingly keep her as a slave? That wasn't ingratitude, that was downright malice!

"Get to your room." Qui-Gon instructed her calmly, if in a cool voice, "before I decide to make your stay on Corellia last an entire standard year."

"Of course, MASTER Jinn." Jemmiah gave a devil-may-care shrug with her shoulders and began to stalk out of the room before remembering the item she'd kept nestling in her jacket pocket. He hardly deserved it now, but maybe it would burn a hole in his tunic the next time he actually used her gift. Good, maybe he'd choke on it!

Spinning on her heel, Jemmy walked up to Qui-Gon, grabbed one of his large hands and opened it out, placing the wrapped gift smack in his palm just to illustrate her irritation with him.

"Happy birthday." She glared at him, indicating that it was anything but.

**************

Qui-Gon hadn't opened the present even after half an hour had elapsed since Jemmiah so rudely reminded him that it was actually his birthday. He hadn't forgotten as such but he hadn't deemed it important enough to merit anything other than a mental nod to the fact that he'd notched up another year, despite all the hardships he and his padawan had faced in the line of duty, or the death-ray glares he could feel permeating through the wall connecting the main room to Jemmiah's old bedroom, all aimed at him. Birthdays did not matter. Following the will of the force mattered. The threat he'd left hanging over Jemmiah of sending her to Corellia hadn't been an idle one but it was not the will of the force. It was not particularly his own wish either. He'd threatened her with it before once or twice but it had never actually been said as if he'd meant it, but still. Sometimes drastic measures needed to be taken in order to cure drastic problems. 

That Jemmiah was basically a kind person was indisputable, but of late there had been far too much flippancy and disregard for the rules of the temple, and the rules imposed upon her - for her own good - by himself and Evla. This created natural discord, and as he was at pains to remind her, the council could send her away as easily as it had allowed her to remain under it's protection. But Jemmiah was naturally rebellious and loved nothing better to push things to the limits. In this respect, Qui-Gon feared, she had been making a study of himself much more than she should…

He didn't want to see her leave any more than she wanted to go. Push her straight back into the hands of her caring, if somewhat avaricious, uncle? See her turned into the spoiled little rich girl like her aunt had always tried her best to do? A whole year on Corellia would surely harden her resolve to stay forever. Then what? Of course if she ever decided to change her mind and go then he wouldn't dream of stopping her and neither would Evla, but he was certain that the decision would cause much hurt on both sides. Possibly he'd just taken a step forward to making that happen, for just as he'd threatened Jemmiah with her leaving, she could threaten him with her staying…

Why didn't she understand how worried he and Obi-Wan had been when she'd failed to turn up - yet again?

His fingers toyed with the ribbon for a moment before pulling on the bow, silken threads dropping apart to let him get to the box bellow. Sliding his thumb underneath the flimsywrap he looked down at the box. It was roughly a hand span wide and equally again just as tall. It was a smart, well made box, and Qui-Gon frowned when he thought how much trouble Jemmiah had gone to with the gift. The lid lifted away to reveal something even more surprising: another much smaller box.

//Trying to surprise me?// Qui-Gon actually found himself smiling wryly. //Or is this the point when I discover there's nothing inside this one except a note saying, "fooled you!"//

The lid of the second box was of a slightly more snug fit, but after a small amount of pulling Qui-Gon managed to detach the lid and look inside. But this time his surprise was even greater. 

He felt himself become slack-jawed. How??? How had she managed to get hold of this? How had she managed to afford something like this? Force, had she stolen it??? There was no way possible that she could have paid for it honestly. And yet there it was, sitting before him in its box, glinting back at him.

Qui-Gon sat back heavily in his chair, thinking, turning the gift over and over in his hands. 

Now what was he to do?

******

Knock-knock-knock!

Jemmiah didn't want to listen to him, whatever Qui-Gon had to say. No doubt he'd thought over what he'd said and decided to extend her stay on Corellia to two whole years! Well, fine! But Evla wouldn't agree to it! She'd soon sort him out! In the meantime she would be civil and NOT lose her temper, even if she was already resorting to spearing her own palms with her long fingernails to stop herself from shouting at him - and he wasn't even in the room!

"Come in, I suppose." Jemmiah grumbled, sat on her bed with her hands folded in her lap, waiting for part two of the argument to commence, willing herself to be polite. She knew she could if she put her mind to it. How many times had she told herself that Qui-Gon had in facet been right about it all? Even if his manner had, in her own opinion, stank like an open sewer? Had she actually behaved any better?

Qui-Gon entered her bedroom with none of his customary caution or deference to the only female living in the rooms shared with himself and his padawan. Instead, Jemmiah could tell from the get-go that Qui-Gon meant business…

"I'd like you to tell me something." Jinn parked himself just a foot away from her.

"If I can." Jemmy sniffed at him.

"Where did you get," he produced the gift that Jemmiah had given him for his birthday, holding it between thumb and forefinger, "this?"

Jemmy squinted at the object… and then squinted some more. What was he talking about? She hadn't given him that! She'd bought him a hip flask and this thing he was holding up for her examination was a ring…

The ring she'd recognized in Wilken's display cabinet! The one she'd thought had looked so similar to the other that Master Jinn had described to her, long ago! She switched from staring at the ring to his face; stern yet not severe like it had been before. He was clearly determined to find out the truth. But Jemmy couldn't help him! She had no notion how he'd got the ring!

"I…I've no idea!" Jemmiah stammered.

"Jemmiah, did you steal this?" Qui-Gon demanded.

"No I did NOT!" Jemmy stood up, her face thunderous. "I do NOT steal things! I had enough of my own stuff being stolen by the likes of Sophie Digwurt to know how that feels, and I don't do that kind of thing!"

"Okay. I believe you." Qui-Gon replied, trying to calm her down. "But that still doesn't answer my first question: where did you get this?"

"I didn't! I got you a hip flask!" Jemmy stuck out her chin, glowering at him. "I saw the ring, I admit it, but I couldn't have afforded it! I told the person who gave…sold your present to me that the ring reminded me of the one that you said you'd lost once but that was the end of the conversation! I swear it!"

Qui-Gon became puzzled. "So you really thought you'd bought me something else?" he questioned, not hiding his confusion.

"Yes! The person who owned the shop wrapped it up in a large box and I never even thought about the ring until you just showed it to me!"

It was certainly curious, mused Qui-Gon, hardly able to take his eyes off the little silver trinket. On one hand there was the word of a girl who the force informed him was not deceiving him. On the other there was the evidence of the ring that he held between his fingers, smooth against the rough callused skin of his hand. So, what did he believe? His eyes or the force? Eyes could deceive a person whilst the force had never yet let him down. What else might the force have to tell him?

He could see that Jemmiah was disappointed, but mainly because she felt that her gift to him had been spoiled. Even in light of their recent argument she was upset that he might feel let down in someway. What she lacked in discipline she certainly made up for in devotion, he admitted ruefully. Even so…

"It does sound like that ring you lost all those years ago." Jemmy shuffled forward to take a better look. "Doesn't it?" 

Qui-Gon held the ring up to the light, examining the engraved markings on the silver underside.

"That's because," Qui-Gon replied, not even blinking, "this IS the ring I lost all those years ago…"

***********

He hadn't needed to ask Jemmiah where she'd purchased her gift, which was good because he hadn't wished to cause her any further regret over the whole present fiasco. She seemed more upset that she'd somehow messed it all up than the threat of being sent away. Fortunately for Qui-Gon, the flimsywrap layers had the company logo embossed upon it and from that point on it had been little effort to trace the address of the small and somewhat exclusive store that Jemmiah had visited.

It worried Qui-Gon that Jemmiah had been to the place on her own. Situated as it was in one of the less agreeable areas in the city, in a darkened and rundown sub block away from the main pedestrian walk way, she'd taken some risks in order to search for his birthday gift - and that annoyed him most of all. The fact that she would go to such lengths for him was touching, but not deserved! What if something had happened to her? Was his birthday more important than her life? Jemmiah certainly seemed to think so, and that bothered him more than anything else…

He was unimportant. Jemmiah was important and so was Obi-Wan. And others besides, who he'd been forced to place at the corners of his existence, not through choice.

The turbo lift had taken him approximately half way up the tall building before letting him off at the correct level. The shop itself was hardly teaming with people, for there were only two others there besides himself at that time, two women; obviously a mother and a daughter trying to pick out some kind of gift. Qui-Gon took a look around at the shop, wondering what had possessed Jemmiah to even thinking of going there unaccompanied. She was far too young! They would have taken one look at her and known she couldn't afford anything…so how was it that she had come home with the precious gift that had once belonged to his own mother? 

He browsed the glass cases for a moment, knowing that he was right. These were for wealthy people, not little girls of twelve living off the temple's kindness and her uncle's allowance, which Mr Mathers governed like a proverbial hawk…

Qui-Gon's eye caught the face of a white haired man, mid to late sixties possibly, with bruises on the side of his face. Somehow the jedi just knew that Jemmiah had been involved; the force screamed it at him until it hurt his head! In return the man stopped cleaning the display cabinet, put away the dusting cloth under the table and began to limp towards the jedi with as much dignity as his injuries would allow him.

"Kivesta, mind the shop." He sighed, beckoning his assistant over to take his place. "I have some business to discuss with this gentleman, so it would seem." He stopped infront of Qui-Gon and looked up, for he was a clear head and a half shorter than him. In return, Qui-Gon looked down, and like Jemmiah before him felt slightly reassured by the genuine smile that greeted him.

"Well, master jedi. I've been expecting you." Wilken gave him a slight bow of the head. "But I think we'd best go out back where we can talk in private…"

*********

Qui-Gon had listened to the tale with mild perturbation. He didn't know whether or not at the end of it he should be even more annoyed with Jemmiah's foolish behavior or be proud of the way she had helped out somebody that had been so desperately in need of assistance. Wilken Stub seemed to detect what the jedi was thinking because he felt obliged to say something in Jemmiah's defence.

"I was extremely lucky that she did turn up." The older man regarded his skinned knuckles by way of a reminder. "I was outside a building whose bottom three stories are lying derelict. Nobody could have heard my cries for help, and even if they had they wouldn't have bothered to check what all the din was about. Nobody cares anymore and that's a fact. I could cheerfully have been murdered where I lay and I might not even have been found for a whole day. That's how hardened people are to pleas for assistance. So you see, you shouldn't shout at your young lady. I think she more than earned the gift that I gave her." He smiled, pointing at the small box that Qui-Gon carried in his hand. "I knew that you'd come back to ask me about it, and in truth I'm glad that you did. See, when your Jemmiah mentioned that you were a jedi at the temple, and that the ring looked like the one you'd described to her, and how you'd 'lost' it all those years ago, I knew that you were its rightful owner and I was glad to be the means in assisting its return."

"I don't understand." Qui-Gon squinted across at Wilken. "How could you know that it was as Jemmiah had said? You would take the word of a twelve year old girl?"

"Let me tell you something about your twelve year old girl, master jedi." Wilken's eyes glittered like the gems set deep within the ring. "There are few people who care what happens to strangers in this galaxy, and I've never met anyone before who cares enough to put their own money into somebody's wallet because they think that somebody else has stolen all the missing credits! That would be enough to make me trust her," Wilken sat back in his chair, "but no. That wasn't the reason."

"Then what?"

Wilken sighed, half closing his eyes. 

"I was a poor man, master jedi. I started out life with very little. No money, no family. I had friends, yes, but they were almost as desperate - and as keen - to make something of themselves as I was. I had many clever associates. One of them managed to become a partner in the money lending business. Went on to do okay for himself. I had another friend who was a bit of a lad. Had an eye for expensive jewels, property and the like. A thief, in short." 

Qui-Gon sat up as if he'd been stung. "A thief?" he repeated, beginning to see the shape the conversation was going to take.

Wilken nodded back. "Tell me," he asked Qui-Gon earnestly, "Have you any idea how much that ring is worth?" When no reply was forthcoming, Wilken grinned. "Let me tell you, my friend did. He saw it around your neck whilst you and your jedi companion sat in a cantina, over forty years ago. He and some money lending friends decided it would be an very good idea if they relieved you of it, seeing as how you clearly had as little idea of its value then as you do now!" he watched Qui-Gon's brow knit together in displeasure at the memory. "I didn't believe him at first. He came back with the ring, boasting how he'd stolen it from a jedi! Imagine that!"

Jinn's face colored. It had been an embarrassment to him, and in truth it still was even after all that time had passed.

"I thought he was lying. Still, we were desperate and in need of the money and so it didn't do to look a gift Nargot in the mouth, so to speak. Especially such an expensive one! The subsequent sale of that ring allowed me to buy this shop."

"What???" Qui-Gon exclaimed in disbelief. "You can't be serious!"

"I jest not, sir." Wilken nodded to the ring that Qui-Gon held aloft once again for inspection. "And its value has gone up subsequently. The stones inside are rare. Very rare. Not many people know this, except those who are aware of what to look for. People in the business… thieves too. Collectors of precious stones, that sort of thing. My partner," Wilken's grin became even bigger, "did not do so well. He spent his share of the money very foolishly. He tried to get in on the money lending racket - and his business failed. Customers can be so unreliable these days!

Eventually I accrued enough money to gain respect, a good business, a wonderful wife," he smiled fondly, "and even that ring you hold there! The person that it was sold to went bankrupt and I bought it from him for half the price we originally sold it to him. It became my lucky talisman! But," he added on seeing Qui-Gon's frown deepen still further, "I always knew that it wasn't mine. That's why I was so pleased when your Corellian girl turned up when she did! A thing like that can be a terrible burden to one's conscience - even such a little thing."

Qui-Gon slowly put the ring away into its box. He no longer felt comfortable with it in his possession. Knowing of the journey that it had taken to get back to him, he marvelled that it had managed to change so many lives in different ways. But it no longer felt like his…

"Maybe we should put it down to the will of the force." Qui-Gon mused, standing up and reaching out a hand to the old man, showing that there were no hard feelings on his part.

"It moves in might mysterious ways." Agreed Wilken. "Without that, this shop was but a dream. Without it, I would not have married my dear wife. And now that it's gone, I feel I can move on too. I've decided to take the plunge," Stub smiled in defeat, "and go retire to Corellia and be with my children. They moved out there about four years ago with their families. Maybe it's time I went out there too. Rings and trinkets are all very well, but you can't take 'em with you. Family is what matters."

Qui-Gon reflected on that particular piece of wisdom at considerable length on the way back to the temple. The force always came first in his life and always would, but wasn't it the force that had insisted on his training Obi-Wan, no matter how much he had resisted the idea? Hadn't the force demanded that he take Jemmiah home to Coruscant with him? Hadn't it instructed him to take her under his own protection? Yes, family mattered too. The ring had been meant to come back to him, of that he had no doubt, and Jemmiah had been the instrument for it all to come into being. No longer annoyed with her, even though he couldn't think of any way of getting the headstrong Corellian to listen to his words of advice, Qui-Gon could only think back on Wilken Stubs words with mild amusement. 

"I suppose Corellia can wait." Qui-Gon smiled to himself as he sat in the back of the air taxi, thinking of his decision to send Jemmiah away. "For the time being."

"Sorry sir? Did you speak?" The Wookie cab driver asked over the translator com.

"No, that's okay." Qui-Gon shook his head, weighting the ring within his hand. Wilken was right: he couldn't take it with him. But now at least he had an idea of what to do with his precious gift.

"Well, one day perhaps." He laughed to himself. "When the right occasion presents itself…"


	3. This Precious Thing Part Three

****

This Precious Thing: Part Three

By Jemmiah

**********

"Sixteen…" Qui-Gon was saying, standing on the balcony of his apartment and admiring the view, the same view as had always been, but no less than spectacular for all that. It would be difficult to become jaded with such an incredible sight even when it was quite literally on your doorstep. Jemmiah listened to the hum of Coruscant's air traffic far above their heads, remembering the first time she had stood on the balcony and took her first ever glance at the world outside - a world that had become her home.

That had been very nearly six years ago now. So much had happened since then…

"…an age of responsibility." Qui-Gon had continued to speak whilst her mind had been elsewhere and she had missed some of the conversation along the way. Nevertheless the gist of his words was unmistakable. Now she was officially of age she had to act in a mature and adult fashion. She should start to think about the direction she wanted her life to take. Basically - although it was not being said unkindly - he was suggesting she took a look at herself and did a bit of growing up.

That WAS what he was saying, wasn't he?

"Of course to a jedi it is just another year to be marked off on the long journey to attaining knighthood, but still I am aware of the importance…the significance, if you like…of reaching that age. And as you are both important and significant to me," he couldn't help but notice the girlish flush of color that accompanied his speech, "I thought I should mark the occasion in some way."

"There's no need…" Jemmiah hurriedly reassured him, but he cut her short with a shake of his hand. 

"Yes there is. Although I was puzzled as to what I should give you at first. I believe Evla is taking you shopping today…"

"She is!" Jemmiah gleefully rubbed her hands. "And Obi-Wan bought me a lovely bouquet of flowers. I thought that was really sweet of him." She couldn't help but smirk as she recollected his face when she'd thanked him for the gift. "I gave him a quick peck on the cheek and he blushed so beautifully that I kissed him on the other one just to see him go even redder!"

Qui-Gon frowned slightly as she regaled him with her antics. His padawan was indeed somewhat shy where females were concerned; not that he hadn't an eye for them, which made Jemmiah's games even less commendable. 

"Do you know, I wondered what I was going to get from Ben. I was really kinda worried. In fact I don't think I'd been so scared since Simeon and I put one of Ben's socks under the scanner and saw…"

"Yes, quite." Qui-Gon agreed abruptly. "But you liked your gifts so far."

"Oh, yes! They've been great!" Jemmiah beamed at him. "Not that it matters of course. Considering that my aunt and uncle went out of their way to buy me as many ridiculously expensive things as they could. Do you know, in a way I almost prefer Ben's flowers. At least he gave me something he'd picked out himself, not selected by someone in some fashionable department store. I suppose it means more because he made the effort."

"So you place great store on sentimental value?" Qui-Gon asked her, keenly awaiting her answer. Jemmiah looked totally non-plussed. What an odd question to ask!

"Well…yes. I like things with meaning behind them. I mean, I know they want to feel like they are doing something worthwhile and all that but sometimes it's like they think that by flashing all their great wealth at me I'll be dazzled with it all. Ben's flowers were lovely. Inexpensive but lovely. "

"Then if something was given to you that meant a lot to the person who was doing the bestowing, that would meet with your approval?"

This time Jemmiah didn't answer him, merely matching his question with one of his own. He was behaving very strangely! It had been a long while since she and Qui-Gon had simply talked like this, and she missed doing so, but he and Obi-Wan were so frequently away on missions that it left little time for social calls and the like. Yet here they both were.

"Why do you ask?" Jemmiah enquired, curious.

"Because," Qui-Gon reached into the pocket of his cloak and brought out a small, silk-wrapped parcel, "I've been thinking about this a lot lately and I wanted to wait for the right time to give this to you. As a sixteenth birthday is regarded as special I thought that time had come."

Jemmiah looked at him for a moment, gauging his mood. He was smiling and yet there seemed a little…sadness? Wistfulness? Expressions that she rarely got to witness from Qui-Gon were suddenly displayed there before her, very easy to read. This was indeed curious! It wasn't until her fingers, hovering momentarily over the beautiful, smooth green cloth, began to undo the little parcel that Jemmiah began to understand what lay behind the open emotions.

It was the ring. Even before she had finished divesting the tiny object of its wrappings Jemmiah could tell what it was. Qui-Gon's ring…why was he giving her this???

"But this is…" Jemmy gasped audibly, hardly able to believe her eyes.

"I would be very honored if you would accept this as my gift to you…" Qui-Gon began, breaking off his sentence as she wrapped the parcel up once more and placed it back in his hand.

Did she not want his gift?

"I'm sorry…I can't." Jemmiah turned her head away so that she didn't have to see the confusion - and the hurt - which was no doubt present on Qui-Gon's normally unperturbed features. There would be little point in trying to explain the way she felt for she doubted that he would understand. It just felt…odd. The idea of wearing someone else's jewellery, their own personal belongings, gave her the shivers. This ring had belonged to somebody. In her mind's eye Jemmiah could almost imagine her, tall and strong boned, but smiling somehow…

"I'm sorry." She repeated, standing up without looking at Qui-Gon and walking away to the living area, leaving him standing out on the balcony, no doubt feeling rather foolish. 

Why she hadn't just retreated to the fresher she didn't know. Perhaps that would have seemed highly ungrateful, which wasn't the case, or maybe she hoped that by not hiding away she was showing him that she was being open and honest with him. Both reasons, possibly? Or did she want him to follow her back through? Whatever the truth was, Jemmiah's heart sank when she thought of how painful her rebuff must have been. It had been a kind and touching gesture, and she appreciated it, yet fleetingly it had reminded her of her uncle Kelik; so quick to buy affection with flashy jewels and fancy clothing. She didn't want Qui-Gon to feel he had to compete with him, nor did she want him to. Not her Qui-Gee.

When he reappeared some minutes later he looked neither unhappy nor disappointed as she had first feared, instead if anything he seemed calm and composed, as one would normally expect a jedi to behave. Wordlessly he walked over to where she was seated, acknowledging her with a very slight smile, removing his cloak and draping it carefully over the back of the sofa before allowing himself to sit down beside her on the second seat. Folding his hands carefully in his lap, Qui-Gon waited a moment or two before allowing himself to speak.

"Might I be permitted to ask why?" he tilted his head fractionally, as if it would somehow allow him to see what was going on in her head. "Is it not to your liking?"

Jemmiah blinked, surprised at his words. "No…it's lovely. More than that, it's beautiful. I think you know that. I admired it so much when I was little."

"Indeed." Qui-Gon nodded, recalling the amazement that had sparkled in her eyes, as bright as the stone set in the ring. "And that is why I am a little puzzled as to why you have decided to reject my gift to you." He fell silent for a moment, trying to think if perhaps they had argued recently, or that he had done something that might have caused her to be upset with him. "Is it me, is that it? Are you unhappy with me?"

"Sorry?" Jemmiah caught her breath slightly. Did he really think that? "N-no. It's not you, really it's not. The present was most kind and very thoughtful…"

"But?" pressed Qui-Gon.

Jemmy shifted a fraction in her chair so that she could face him properly this time. Clearly there was to be no running away - not now. How could she not have the decency to tell him when he had asked her so considerately? And he was due an answer.

"That ring was your mothers." She began.

"That is correct."

"It's her gift to you." Jemmy turned hopeful eyes upon him, hoping he would somehow understand. "It was never intended for me."

Qui-Gon weighted the delicate piece of jewellery in his hand for a moment, knowing that for all it had been intended for him as Jemmiah had said, it was never really destined for him. It was a ladies trinket, far too elegant for a man such as himself. Besides, what need did he have for it?

"Jemmiah, were I to keep hold of this ring it would just sit there in my room and gather dust until I died, and that being the case you would be the one to receive it anyway. Surely it makes sense then to give it to you now? I'd like to see it being worn, not lying forgotten."

"But it was your mothers…" Jemmy repeated.

"And by wearing it you will be honoring her. I have no memory of my family before the temple. Not one hazy remembrance before the crèche and Dex and Mace. If it were otherwise I might very well be tempted to hold onto this ring like you said. If I could somehow associate it with a face, a person, I might feel I was able to keep it. But I cannot." 

He held the ring up to the light, his thumb and forefinger holding its circumference within their grasp. 

"It seems it was never really meant for me. It's too much for a jedi to easily keep hold of. Yoda warned me of that when I was first granted my request and given care of what I desired. And he was right. I couldn't keep it. He saw what I could not even then."

Jemmiah wondered what exactly he was talking about - was it the ring or herself? That was ridiculous though on both counts. He was being foolish again. She had no intentions of letting the likes of her uncle supplant him in her affections. It wasn't as if she was going to walk out and leave him, not ever…

Did she deserve to take this gift from him? After all the things she had done? Could she say that she was worthy of Qui-Gon's gift when only a week ago she had…cheapened herself with Gethin Territ, the first person she'd actually permitted to lay hands on her since she had left Nargotria? Fifteen years of age and she'd let herself become exactly what she'd tried so hard not to be, working so hard to rid herself of the stigma of being brought up in a brothel. It had been inexcusable…she'd let herself be carried away by her own feelings of misery and the need for physical comfort. In truth, she'd done little short of take advantage of a man lost in his own unhappiness.

She'd been fifteen…a few days short of her sixteenth birthday. That was the only way she could justify what had happened, but she knew that would cut no ice with Qui-Gon or An-Paj should they ever find out.

"The choice is of course yours, but I do wish you would accept it. Just for myself?" he added a touch hopefully. "I would like to see it being valued again and on the finger of someone who will do it justice."

"Master J, your mother gave you this as a symbol. It maybe wasn't the most practical of gifts to leave a jedi but it was probably the most personal thing she had. Maybe the most precious thing. She wanted you to know that she thought about you even though she was giving you up to the temple. That's what this ring is. Don't you see, it's so personal that it just wouldn't be right for me to wear it? It would be like me coming between a mother and her son!"

"A novel way of looking on it." Qui-Gon smiled, almost ready to admit defeat. He decided he would give it one last attempt, and then if it was not to be he would place the little ring back in its box inside the chest of drawers where it had been hiding ever since its return some five years before.

"Jemmiah, you've said that this is my mother's gift to me." He continued cautiously, picking his words as carefully as he could.

"Yes."

"It's also my gift to you. I would like you to have it because it would mean as much to me to see you wearing it as it did to my mother when she gave it to the temple for safe keeping. You are right, it is a deeply personal thing. It IS a symbol - a token of respect and love and of high hopes for the future. That is something that I would wish for you. I would like to see that carried on into the future, so please…" he proffered the silver circlet, "…take it. Do it for me."

Jemmiah stared at the ring. It WAS beautiful; there was no doubt about it. There had been no hint from Qui-Gon that he had given it to her just because her uncle had been buying her all manner of expensive things. Yes, he'd as good as admitted that he was worried he wouldn't be able to keep her with him for much longer so perhaps that insecurity - and who'd have thought a jedi would have that? - was lurking in the background, but clearly it was not his motivation for giving her the ring. He wanted to honor the parent he had never seen but clearly regarded with deep gratitude, but most of all he wished to honor her. Would it be so wrong to accept under those circumstances? And who was to say that Qui-Gon's mother would not have approved? After all, she was as good as his daughter. The ring would have come to her in time…

She didn't want to think about that. Quite happily Jemmiah would have given up a million such trinkets to keep Qui-Gon alive and well. A small, appraising glance revealed to her that Qui-Gon had followed her every thought and had began to relax in the knowledge that he had finally won the battle. Deep down she still felt as if she shouldn't accept…but she had let herself be swayed.

//I should have locked myself in the fresher after all.// Jemmiah thought ruefully. //Oh, well - too late for that now.//

"I was going to give it to you a few years back," Qui-Gon reflected momentarily, "But as I found to my own cost it is probably not the sort of thing a young child should be given. That was why I held onto it for as long as I did. Not that I ever thought you were unworthy of it."

"What, never?" Jemmiah smiled questioningly, steeling a peek at Qui-Gon's blue eyes, amusement writ large therein.

"We have had our moments, haven't we?" he mused, thinking of all the arguments and tantrums, the lectures and fallings out. He was fairly inflexible in his attitude; he knew it to be true. Everyone said it. Jemmiah was quick to anger and just as quick to calm down. Their relationship had from time to time been stormy to say the least. "But yet here we are, talking sensibly with one another." 

He paused - 

"And I am still offering you this gift. The choice is yours. I cannot make you take it, and if you feel uncomfortable with the notion then I will understand. But I hope that you will accept it. For me." He added, waiting her decision.

Put like that, how was she able to refuse him?

"It's important to remember people." Jemmiah stretched out her hand to let him place the ring on her finger. "I've always felt that was true. That way they never really fade away. So if you think that your mother would approve then I'll gladly wear it."

The ring slid over her knuckle and then further down towards the base of her finger, gripping her skin firmly without pinching. It was a good fit; in fact it could very easily have been made for her. Jemmiah took a few moments to admire it, letting the light catch the shimmery blue Corusca stone from different angles. It looked somehow different now that she was actually wearing it…almost as if it had come alive.

"Thank you." She flashed her famous grin at Qui-Gon.

"No, thank you." He stood up slowly, stretching his long limbs as he did so. "I'm going to fetch a drink. Do you want one?"

"Just citrus thanks."

"On your birthday?" the tone seemed thoroughly scandalised. "When I have a bottle of something pink, fizzy and very slightly alcoholic put aside?"

"Later, Perhaps." Jemmy answered. "After Evla has taken me shopping! I'll need something to revive me."

"So will she…" Qui-Gon murmured.

There was an awkward moment of silence as Qui-Gon tried to think of something else to say, hesitating by the kitchen entrance.

"I'm truly happy that you accepted that ring." He confessed, his face astonishingly bashful - so much that it caused Jemmiah to take notice.

"Because of its sentimental value?" she wondered.

"No…" Qui-Gon confessed, "because I was so convinced that you would say yes that I hadn't got you anything else, and I would have looked very foolish indeed!"


End file.
